Blood of Confusion
by Yukitsu
Summary: [Revamp!] AU. Kuroro is a newly converted halfvampire from the outside seeking to mark Yorkshin City as his territory, whilst Kurapika is the local slayer of the Guild assigned to get rid of him and his allies.
1. Chapter 1: Inhuman

**Blood of Confusion**

by Yukitsu

* * *

_Disclaimers_: **Hunter X Hunter** does not belong to me, but to **Yoshihiro Togashi**, and this fanfiction does not get me money. 

**Be properly warned**, Kurapika tends to be angsty here. Kuroro also, perhaps? And also, I rarely – if I do at all – write in first person point of view, so some of this may seem strange to the both of us. Trust me, I tried. AND, this might – and will most likely – end up yaoi or shounen ai. It will depend on how it turns out, and how my plot decides to twist itself around like it usually does. Sometimes, I wonder at my capacity to churn out boysex.

As an attempt to increase my productivity level and give myself something to do apart from obsessing over the new original fiction, I am collaborating with **Ravenel**, I have decided, at long last, to rewrite this. This would be, however, the third rewrite. The first had been posted here, though as you can see, I just wiped nearly a dozen chapters of it out. The second had been lost when my **KuraPC** crashed. This is my third. I'm also hoping to contribute to the fandom, as well as resurrect some of my dead and dying braincells. I swear, everything just kills my brain.

Read and review, please. XD

* * *

**Chapter One:**

_Inhuman.

* * *

_

Humans can be rather strange. They tell themselves to be careful, to not let themselves get hurt, and actually invent all these devices to ensure their safety... yet they do this.

They fall in love.

What IS love? How can it be powerful enough to make humans throw all rational thoughts out the window willingly? I myself cannot remember the feeling. Did I lose my mortality too soon? Somehow, I doubt that.

I snort as a teenage girl runs past me in a flurry of pink and lavender cloth, tears streaming down her face. A guy chases after her, obviously trying to apologize. Inanity. All that caution for nothing – why, humans even tend to look for love!

To show my repugnance at the humans' stupidity, I quickly chase after the girl, keeping to the shadows to remain undetected. It is easy, more so because the human girl is probably in too much emotional agony to actually care where she's going. I wonder why the male hasn't caught up yet. He must have been going after the girl with almost double her speed, yet the both of us have left him behind.

Then it dawns upon me. He doesn't want to reconcile with her. His cries were just a show, and he didn't have any intentions of actually catching up to her. I admit that I find it fascinating that this emotion can trigger in humans the best and the worst of actions. I have observed that the more sincere of the humans tend to work harder, or act kinder. The fickle ones, however, can be rather idiotic. This here, can be an example. There is this female who has decided to escape from the cause of her pain, while the male has decided to drop her like a hot potato. More's the pity for the girl. She'll die alone and in pain.

I catch up with her, seeing her finally stop near a small stream. She is sobbing, her cries wracking through her frail body. She's very pretty, I think, for a human, though the drama is a bit more than I can stomach.

Well... time to make my move. Maybe I'll make this fun, just for the sake of killing time. I do, after all, have all eternity.

"Miss... Are you alright?" I ask sweetly, slowly walking up towards her, making a show of hesitation.

"Who... who's there?" she asks fearfully. I think she finally realizes her great mistake in coming here. Everyone knows that a vampire has been roaming around the city, targeting teenagers who are left alone.

"The name's Kuroro, Miss. What's wrong? Why are you alone, crying in a place like this?" I ask, my voice laced with insincere concern. I'm such a good actor. Way to go, me. Then again, convincing her in her state of emotional imbalance is easy.

"My... my boyfriend broke up with me. He-he said that he doesn't love me anymore," she sobbed, and I inwardly bite back a comment of how his boyfriend must have been the smarter of them when they were still a couple. I approach her instead.

"I see. I'm guessing the relationship just died, then," I said tactlessly. It's very unusual of me to be blunt, I'm certain of that, but I don't share my compassion with idiots.

"Yes, Ku-kuroro. I-I loved him ve-very much," she nearly hysterically wails. I find myself fortunate that she manages to hold back the noise. As soon as I get near her, she immediately seeks solace in my waiting arms. I barely manage to contain my snort. Really now. She claims that she loves her former lover, but here she is now, embracing another man. A stranger, no less.

"That I don't doubt," A lie! What a harlot, using her misfortune to acquire another man to show off! Well, I'm deeply regretful, Miss, but I've gotten bored of you. Time to end the fun here.

"Wha-what..?" she stammers as she feels my lips against her neck, and a place a soft kiss over her pulse. She shivers as I nip at her jugular, my nip turning into a carnal bite, intending to injure and kill. She doesn't even get to scream as I drink her life, drop by delicious drop.

Oh well... Pity for her, life for me.

* * *

"Kurapika, are you there?" a voice called me, knocking at my door. I barely deign to look up from my book. 

No, sir. Kurapika is not available at the moment, I think of answering with every ounce of sarcasm I had in my body. I think of doing a lot of things, actually, a great many things to make my life better Sometimes I'd call it wishful thinking, sometimes I'd think of it as being moronic, and usually, I label it as insanity. It all goes down to one sentence, anyway: Nothing happens.

"Come in," I mutter, vaguely hoping he doesn't hear it and he'll leave me alone. But then, the gods never did favor me. Without waiting for further invitations, my visitor enters.

It is Leorio, my guardian. There is a feeling roiling at the pit of my stomach, something in between resignation, dread, and great annoyance. It's an interesting mix – not quite like hunger, not quite like pain, but something I have developed a rather active aversion for nevertheless.

"Kurapika, I have a new case for you," he announces, in tune with my gut's prediction.

"I know," I reply dully, not bothering to hide my displeasure for the news. Leorio is a good man, really. A little loony, slightly overenthusiastic, more than bit of a martyr, and probably rolling around in some dark emotion like I often think I am. It's just that unfortunately, he's the bearer of bad news. I'm just a little sick and tired of hunting and slaying, that's all. All right, perhaps not a bit – to rephrase that, make it a hefty lot. All I get for my efforts are taunts and rejection, after all. Sometimes, I wonder if I should actually try to buy these people lives of their own.

"Don't be like that," Leorio reprimands me. I just nod. We've been through this so many times, I think get this feeling of nausea when it happens. I can't help it though, and neither can he. I think it's become tradition, or something.

There I go again. I think. I think too much. But really, what else is there for me to do? Between slaying jobs, investigating, hunting down unnatural murderers and sleeping, there's nothing for me waste time on. My social life is as active as a dead snail, and the city is wary of its resident slayer, anyway.

"Does it matter? What's the new case all about?" I snap, kicking back on my seat, placing the book I had been reading on the table, and crossing my arms over my chest. I know I shouldn't be rude, and there should probably be a hint of enthusiasm in my voice and attitude right about now, but I can't muster enough will to do so. I never had any enthusiasm for this job, not even when I was just starting.

He doesn't seem to notice my lack of happy energy, and just drones on about the vampire I'm supposed to hunt and slay.

"His name's Kuroro Lucifer, a vampire originally from the West side of Meteor City. It seems that he's grown tired of Meteor City, so he's here now at Yorkshin. He's already killed about a dozen or so people, mostly, if not all, in their teenage years--"

"A perverted vamp," I declare to interrupt him. Leorio blinks at me blankly, probably taken aback at my sudden conclusion.

"No, I don't think so," he contradicts. I scowl. "Anyway, this Kuroro character is strange. He hasn't converted anyone yet, and he doesn't have a pattern. It seems to me that he kills people randomly, only when he feels like it."

"That's not strange. In fact, I think that's normal," I voice out, rising from my seat. I don't let him finish anymore. Instead, I reach for my trench coat and leave the room. I have enough to go with and the sun has gone down. It's time for the thinking to stop, and the hunting to start.

"Be careful, Kurapika," Leorio calls after me. Hn. Like you care.

* * *

Edits: 1:37 AM 6/3/2005 


	2. Chapter 2: Face to Face

**Blood of Confusion**

by Yukitsu

Disclaimer: This is a fanfic. Go figure that one out. XD

Anyway, a word to the readers. o.o The old BoC actually had no solid plot -- I wrote as I went, so it was full of filler chapters and fanservice and the like. This is completely different from the old BoC, the first couple of chapters aside, so 'revision' is no longer an accurate term -- this is more like a revamp. There's an actual plot now, something still shaky but gradually improving nevertheless. I suppose it helps that BoC's really fun for me now too. There's Lynlyn to thank for that. XD

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

_Face to face.

* * *

_

I mutter as I walk up the beaten path from the church to the city. Unlike the rest of Yorkshin's citizens, I don't appreciate the 'untouched' beauty that comes with it. There was a time when I did, I believe, until a vampire used the forest as his hideaway and tried to ambush me on the way to the city. Annoying thing developed an infatuation for me, which is not flattering at all given that vampires tend to lust after people's blood instead of anything else.

Never let it be said that I never hold a grudge.

Now the half a mile distance I have to walk through every time I need to go anywhere is just inconvenient. I'd borrow Leorio's bicycle but no. Just no. I must admit living in a church has its quirks, but unless I get any kind of transportation other than my own two legs, I don't think I'll be able to get to a victim before it gets killed. Then again, that's not my problem. Mine is to get rid of vampires, not coddle mankind. That's Leorio's job as a priest, and even then, humanity in general should learn that bad things tend to happen and they have to learn how to deal.

It's kind of fitting that my present base is a church, though. The savior of humanity this fraction of the continent living in a church. Great way to impress people, really. If everybody knew, they'd probably either laugh their selves silly at the irony, or think it's some sort of symbolical thing.

I mutter something under my breath about primitive ways of living and such as I near the quaint, little city I'm supposed to deliver to salvation.

* * *

"And yours will be?" the friendly bartender asks me politely as I sit down on the counter seat. Vaguely, I thank the heavens for the missing joke about my age that the usual workers crack when I go here. ("What will it be for the young patron? Coke? Milk?")

"Information, please," I say tartly, tucking my feet against each other and over the stool's foot bar. He seems to get what I mean because there's that glint in his eyes, but he doesn't miss a beat in his work as he polishes one glass after another with a pristine white rag. He's not giving in on me easily, and I'll admit to some slight surprise.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have that brand of drink here," he replies sweetly, already turning away to pluck another glass from behind him. I raise an eyebrow.

"Of course, information is really expensive, isn't it?" I finally add in, hoping that my voice sounds even just a bit promising. He pauses, and I wait for him to take the bait. He's new here – I've always gotten most of my investigation done in places like this, and most of the old-time bartenders know me enough to give in without unnecessary persuasion. They give me what I need, and I keep vampires from chewing on their customers as well as pay them for the service. It's more than a fair trade for them. I look for the other workers, but he's the only one around I can bother.

"Ah, yes... It _is_ expensive. Let's see if we still have some more... Erm... what kind of information did you want, by the way?"

I study my informant as I inwardly sigh in relief that finally, finally something productive is happening. Cheerful, middle-aged, friendly enough... a bit bulky on the side, but still functional. I look back to the picture Leorio showed me earlier, and try to recount the more unique of my target's physical characteristics.

"A man's drink. Preferably the kind that black haired, deep-eyed men drink. The new one, if you have them," I say, riding along the man's ruse. It's not as if anybody will get him if he discloses what information he has, but coding protocol's coding protocol, and I hardly have a choice unless I want to pounce on the guy and show him my gnawers.

"New, dark-haired, deep-eyed man type? There are several of those here. I'm afraid that you'll have to make it more exact..." the bartender trails off and I quietly sigh as I think of anything specific yet general enough a category.

"Hmm. Do you have those that only come in during the night?" I ask, inwardly rolling my eyes. After all... a vamp is a vamp.

"Yes. But as before, there are quiet a few here that fit that description."

"Do you have the Lucifer type?" I press on. I may be on to something here, or I may be just wasting my time. Either way, I'd hate to leave here without results.

"Ah... the Lucifer type. I know of that. Quite new, if I may say so myself. Always comes during the nights..." the bartender starts on me, looking thoughtful. And then he gives me a pointed look. "Pay first, before you drink. That's the policy of this store, sir."

"Of course," I concede grudgingly. I pull the money out from my pocket – I don't have a wallet, since they're too bulky – and slap the bills on the table. There is enough to make his eyes grow wide, proving my earlier conclusion that he's a rookie. An _old_ rookie. The bar must be desperate.

"Well, Lucifer is usually in most of the bars here. You can actually find it in the streets, if you look hard enough. The place where it can usually be found, however, would be the park or the forest. It seems to be very interested in the old church. Wanted to meet the slayer that lived there. Very polite and neat. Seemed like a very respectable and nice fellow. Quite for the gentleman, if I may add," he lists down as he gives me a shot of what I figure out is vodka.

I vaguely think of asking if the he knows that Lucifer's a vampire, and that calling him 'it' is perfect.

"I see. Thanks," I say as I leave, my shot glass untouched. Behind me, I hear the bartender and several of the patrons' talk, probably unaware that I have sharp hearing. I turn at the door, keeping on the darker part to watch their interaction. I'm mildly interested, so sue me.

"He looks familiar," the bartender says to himself as he pockets the money and returns to cleaning glasses.

"Hey! What did the blondie slayer want with you?" a patron asks him, raising his mug of beer in the air to call the bartender's attention.

"Slayer? You mean he's the slayer?" he echoes, looking dumfounded. He turns to look at the door, just when someone pushes past me to get in. Our eyes meet, and I'm sure the look of pure terror in his expression isn't just because of how the light made only half my face visible to him. His eyes bulge and he pales a shade lighter than his rag.

My smile widens, and I walk outside.

* * *

It doesn't take me too long too find him. A couple of hours at best, three at worst. The bad thing about Yorkshin is that there are a million and one places for a criminal to hide, and twice that for vampires. I can methodically hunt from sunset 'til sunrise and not see anything actually worth my time for three days straight. The good thing about vampires, though, is that they're predictable.

A good quarter of Yorkshin has been changed to a massive commercial area, whilst suburban residential subdivisions litter a quarter of it, and small chunks at the sides. While there are vampires who find it more exciting to hunt in extremely populated areas, most would rather not risk facing the elites who can afford actual silver bullets and annoying bodyguards. What's more, the larger part of the suburbs has a forest beside it (Great hideaway, the forest), and rich people have bad blood, anyway, or so a lucid vampire claimed once.

Usually, if I can't get any leads from the bars surrounding the suburbs, I check around my other information network before prodding on to commercial Yorkshin, where I transfer to the Guild's network there. I don't like the Guild's lackeys in the commercial areas of the city – they never know which is useful and which is useless. Hunting there doesn't happen too often, thankfully, and now is not one of those rare moments.

My target is seated on a park bench, position relaxed and languid. He looks… normal. Definitely not like the drooling bloodsuckers I'm usually up against. For a moment, I wonder if he really is a vampire, until I see the claws. They retract and extend several times as I watch from the bench a few meters behind him. We're alone, and I know he's aware I'm here. The problem with vampires is… you can never completely sneak up on them, and the dry, fallen leaves everywhere make it extremely difficult for me to even try. If I did, he would have attacked by now.

I know that's he thinking of me too – am I a possible prey, or a hunter? One point to the slayer for being young and deceptively harmless-looking.

"Such a nice night, don't you think?" he says, and I raise my eyebrow. Kuroro Lucifer is talking to himself while staring off at something far away. Idly, as I muse that he even _sounds_ normal, I follow the direction of his vision. There's really nothing to see but the cross of my own base over the treetops some distance away. It's old and partially deformed, but it's shiny and glints at me anyway with the light from the big C that is the moon.

"What are you doing out here alone?" he asks as he turns his head slightly to look at me.

Hunting, I nearly answer, but instead, I rise from my seat and make my way to his.

"May I?" I ask, gesturing at the other end of his bench. He nods, and I nod in return as I smooth the ends of my trench coat and sit down. "You seem rather interested in the church," I comment as I turn to look at the cross again. It looks shinier.

"You could say I am," he answers, chuckling a little. "Don't you find it strange that it's placed right there, instead of the middle of the city?"

He is a strange one. Too human, too rational, too composed. Most vampires would have pounced on me by now, even before I got ten meters from them. "It's been there longer than Yorkshin."

"Ah, I see. That explains things. I'm Kuroro Lucifer, by the way. Please pardon the late introduction."

He turns to me, and stretches his hand for a shake. I take it, and give it a firm shake back before replying: "Kurapika."

Before he can let go of my hand, however, I am up on my feet and yanking him sideways where I had been seated. He stumbles, and I take the opportunity to slip the stake from my pocket and stab it through his chest. The stake hits the bench, and he hits the ground as he slides off its surface and uses my grip on his hand to pull himself upright, in turn making me lose my balance by a slight measure.

I am quick to pull myself together enough to let go and jump aside as his hand swipes at my face. Unfortunately, it gives him time to recompose himself. We eye each other, and I pull a short sword from inside my trench coat. My first attack failed – pity, I had the initial thought he would be easy to handle.

"A pleasure to meet you, slayer."

"Likewise, vampire," I say as I lower to a crouch and jump forward. I slice at him with my sword, or try to – his damn reflexes are too good for a normal vampire -- and push on with a flurry of attacks. I kick, I stab, I slice, and I slash around while he dodges everything I throw at him, and I wonder when he's going to attack. Vampire defense is low when they're attacking, as is most humans'.

The vampire steps backward as I thrust with my short sword, jumps to the right when I try to hit him with the stake, ducks when I follow it up with a slash with the sword, side steps to the right again when I do a roundhouse kick aimed for his face, and leaps completely out of my range when I throw the stake at him like a throwing dagger. He's not attacking, and I pull another stake out from my inner pocket while trying to figure out why he's so different during the momentary lull.

"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" he asks with a small smile. There is no hardness to his tone, and I wonder why I feel insulted. I don't know what to make of him. My predictions have gone down the drain. The only thing for me to do is to stay on the safe side -- I stand my ground and wait for him to attack.

Instead he… smiles at me some more and turns around.

"While I truly enjoyed meeting you, slayer, I have somewhere else to be. Perhaps we can finish this another time."

I blink, taken aback. Before I can do anything, however, he's already disappeared into the night.

What the bloody hell was that? What was that vamp trying to say? I'm not some weak human incapable of slaying! Some interest in the slayer, that was, disappearing just when we were starting.

I agitatedly stand my ground, paranoia kicking in full as my hackles rise. The bastard may be tricking me. It takes me a few tries, but I get my breathing down to normal and my temper dragged to a simmer.

He's too strong to be a normal vampire, though too weak to be a vampire lord. Kuroro Lucifer is a freak, and though I'm not too sure of what steps to take to beat him, I know I'm still a match if I give it my whole effort.

When I'm certain that he's not in the area anymore, I finally return my weapons to their places and wonder what to do next. I can track him down, but the earlier fight may just repeat itself, and then what? I make my way back to the park entrance and start walking to the church.

Leorio has a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

"Leorio," I snap as I forcefully open the door. He blinks up at me even as I hear the door slam with a loud crash against the wall behind me. He sort of looks me over the bible he had been studying, then, apparently finding nothing to worry about, goes back to scribbling stuff on the piece of parchment. I'm guessing that he's planning out his homily for Sunday.

"Tell me everything you know about Kuroro Lucifer," I say as I set my hand down on his table. I try to loom over him, I really do, but I'm a bit on the short side and even while sitting down, Leorio's obviously not impressed. The guy knows me too well.

"He pissed you off?" he asks with a drawl, and I scowl right back.

"Very perceptive. Talk."

"He _did_ piss you off. Pretty badly too. What did he do? Run off on you?" I glare at him, and he looks me in the eyes evenly. I hate him sometimes. He's smart, too smart, and rightfully so. Leorio won't be one of the Guild's Apostles otherwise, and with what I know, he's been in the business since he was a kid. Still, I wish he'd learn when to cooperate sometimes.

"Just tell me what I need to know, Leorio."

"All right, all right. You should know by now that he's not like any ordinary vamp," he says as he ticks off a finger. I bite back the urge to confirm it with a menacing glare.

"Yeah, I do," is about everything I can say to that, though, and I wait for him to continue.

"He had been converted by his father, around three months ago if the records are correct."

I file the information away to the back of my brain, even if I know it's borderline trivial. "He's green."

Leorio sort of rolls his eyes at my statement, but continues anyway. "I already said he's from Meteor City—"

"He is?" I don't think I caught that part when he was telling me about it. My bad. Leorio gives me this look again, the one I've come to associate with "when will you grow up?" and "there you go again." I just raise an eyebrow at him and say: "Isn't Meteor City vamp free?"

"It was, and it still is now that Kuroro and his companions have moved here. When the elder—"

"His _companions?_ " I interrupt, and I feel my eyebrows climb to my hairline. He glares at me for interrupting, and I shake my head and gesture for him to continue.

"When the elder Lucifer was converted, he went on a rampage and starting transforming every person he met. Either that, or he ate them. Unfortunately, the first person he came across was his own son. Kuroro was the first victim."

"How many are there?"

"Thirteen, including Kuroro."

Well, damn. And they're all in _my_ city. I start pacing around Leorio's office, already trying to think of what to do. Kuroro, I can probably take on my own, but thirteen extremely weird vampires is another matter entirely.

"Can the Trinity send us help?" I ask vaguely. The Trinity is this group of three really old people who run the Guild. Everyone trusts them, though I don't. Names like Benevolence, Bequest, and Benign tend to be misleading. What's more, they're the ones who put me here.

Leorio shakes his head and shrugs. "There's been an infestation in another city. They need all the extra slayers they can get."

"Gee, great," I mutter. What do they call what's happening in Yorkshin now? A mild influx? Thirteen isn't exactly the number of newbies we get per day. Not even a week, if I think about it.

"Let me finish, all right? You haven't heard all of it, and this will interest you. Or horrify you. Whichever."

"Try me."

"The Lucifer family is known for their wards against vampires. If you're a vamp, and you touch them, you die. Or you experience excruciating pain – depends on your caliber." I open my mouth to interrupt him again, but he raises his hand and I keep my silence. "We're not certain if it was a side effect of who had bitten him or because of the ward, but the late Lucifer was a Bitten half-breed. Everyone he converted retained their humanity, like he did."

"Retained their humanity?" I echo, freezing on the spot. There's this cold feeling creeping up my spine as I process what had been said. "Leorio," I say slowly, "There're only two half-breeds in the records, and they're both Born half-breeds. You know that."

"Of course I do," he snaps, "I was just as surprised as you are. But… Bitten half-breeds convert humans into fellow Bitten half-breeds, as Pure convert into Pure. There are fourteen more names in the roster for the Bitten."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Kurapika." He pauses and meets my eyes in firmly. "The vampire lord Wing was the one who converted the late Lucifer."

I'm reeling, I know I am. I feel like I've been punched twice on either temple, and gutted with my own stake. _Wing_, of all vamps. Vampire lords convert to Bitten half-breeds, and Bitten half-breeds convert to other Bitten half-breeds. If I had traced it back, I should have seen it coming – the late Lucifer had been a Bitten half-breed, and Wing is the only vampire lord currently in existence, the only one powerful enough to break through several generations' worth of wards. I should know -- Wing had his fangs sunk on my neck before my slaying abilities triggered itself awake and I managed to fend him off. I'm sure he still doesn't realize how I didn't get converted like he expected, at least not in the way he had been expecting. I'm not a Bitten half-breed, and I'm thankful for that.

"The late Lucifer is dead," Leorio finally speaks up after a very long pause, "Kuroro and his companions banded together and overthrew him. They call their selves the Geneiryodan. Fortunately, they haven't converted anyone yet, or at least that's what the Trinity's records say."

And they refuse to lend me assistance. What is this, a test of some kind? Those from the Trinity are selling the city to the Geneiryodan! I think my punishment for accidentally mauling a member of the Triad can wait another mission. Right now, there are thirteen Bitten half-breed, _Wing_ descendants running around, and they won't send assistance over? What's an infestation compared to _Wing's descendants?_

"Kurapika? Are you all right?"

I quell down my rising hysteria and manage to meet his gaze evenly. "Great."

* * *

8:48 PM 6/12/2005 


	3. Chapter 3: Imitations of Reality

**Blood of Confusion**

by Yukitsu

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction. None of the characters -- the cannon fodder aside -- are mine.

A great big thanks to **Lynlyn** for always beta-reading these and keeping me enthusiastic with keeping this alive even through the extremely frustrating moments. She be my springboard for ideas!

* * *

**Chapter 3:**

_Dreams are imitations of reality.

* * *

_

I am falling; falling so fast I can't even begin processing which way I'm actually headed, if I'm even falling at all. I know I am, because I can't determine where my gut's gone off, and it's been missing for the longest time now. But Floating is worse than falling, in a way. When you float, you have entirely too much time with too little distraction to think. Falling makes you brace, makes you try not to leave body parts behind, makes you anticipate or dread landing.

I don't know if I would rather fall or float. I think I'd rather do neither, really.

I land before my thoughts get anywhere; land so hard I don't know if I'm still breathing, if I'm still thinking at all. It's rather silly – the last time this happened in real life was when Wing had been in my general vicinity and invoking unholy fear upon me. Not a good thing to bring up.

My body does a sort of rebound, and I flail before I open my eyes to the alarm clock ringing shrilly near my ear. The same dream, the same nightmare. Falling for eternity and then landing with a sickening crack on a pile of bones in the middle of an unending black when I least expect it, only to wake up to another night of hunting and killing creatures who used to be human, on my bed in the church's basement. Sometimes, I don't know if I'm awake; sometimes, I wake up with extreme clarity that it's like nothing happened, like I can say I'm getting used to it.

The same feeling of disorientation. Every single day, since I turned a slayer some three years ago. If anything, at least I can be blank and logical about it now. When I was younger, I always woke up in a pair of arms whimpering my head off. Now I wake up to my alarm clock.

I count the ticking of my clock and get up at the fifty-ninth. Breathe, Kurapika, because it's the only thing you can do to keep your sanity intact. I listen to myself, and I breathe, and I count another fifty-nine before slipping off my bed. It creaks and protests, but three years has been long enough for me to know that it won't fall apart.

Silence keeps me company as I go about changing into my hunting clothes and washing myself clean. Great companion, silence.

It's five in the afternoon, an hour before the early vampire risers wake up. I have time to eat and be normal for an hour. Not bad.

There are no skeletons in my room when I survey it as I let myself out of the door. It's not black either, but a boring shade of brown and grey typical of basements in old almost-ruined churches. It makes me feel better about the things I can't change in life.

* * *

For a large group of Bitten half-breeds, the Geneiryodan are difficult to trace. It makes me wonder if I found Kuroro Lucifer because he wanted to be found, or wanted to find me. Interest in the slayer, huh. 

None of the bars I frequent and usually rely on has any information on them. Foreigners pass through Yorkshin everyday and many of them stay for weeks on end, so it's difficult for me to get anything helpful. Leorio can't give me the files for the Geneiryodan yet, because of verification procedures, and until then, I'm on my own. I can't even get angry with Leorio because it's not his fault; even as an Apostle, there are still rules and superiors for him to follow.

I do the bar-hopping ritual and ask around my contacts about the Ryodan. Some manage to give me little leads, the kind that sends me running around the city investigating one thing or another, while some give me nothing at all.

I'm at a doubt if I can do anything if I find all of them anyway, though that doesn't stop me from trying. I need to scout, and scout I will. Kuroro Lucifer, as the leader, may not necessarily be the strongest member. A vampire's level of strength varies from how strong he had been as a human. Kuroro Lucifer was a member of the Meteor City nobility – surely there are other members stronger than a pampered, wealthy man?

The park where I met Kuroro is empty again. It's the same time as last night, so I don't really wonder, but I'm kind of disappointed that it's devoid of the weird leader. Through the dim light from the moon, I see that the bench where we first tussled has the puncture hole from my stake, and there are claw marks along the backrest. I wonder if I can be jailed for vandalism.

There's a scream, faint yet shrill at the same time. I tense and whip my blade out before realizing it isn't anywhere in my immediate vicinity. I swear all that thinking killed my brain and turned me into a complete moron. The scream sounds again, and I pause and close my eyes to figure out where it's coming from.

When I open my eyes, the cross of my own base glints at me.

Miss Mito! She must have been the one screaming! I break into a run, swerving through the shrubbery and dashing past low hanging branches. Is my base being attacked? I told Leorio it would be stupid if everyone had access to the information of where I live. Damn vampires are being bold!

It's dark, more so because of the trees looming around me, but I hardly give it any notice. Just a bit more, I'm more than halfway there. Mito screams again, and I put on more speed. I'm practically whizzing my way through the rough terrain, and her screams are louder the two times I hear them again before I get to the outer wall of the church.

The wall's pretty low, and I vault over it with no problem. There's another cry, but this one is cut off before it ends, and I skid my way around the corner to where I calculated the commotion is coming from.

"Mito!" She's slumped against the wall, unconscious. Leorio is somewhere near her feet, looking like a puppet someone threw on the ground with a lot of force. His temple is bleeding. The two kids Mito adopted several months back are trying to defend both of them from the attacker, a tall man wearing… pink.

"Aah! Kurapika!" Gon calls at me. He has Mito, Killua has Leorio. I launch myself at the trespasser.

We're tangled up in a flurry of movements, and if it not for my gifted instincts, he would have gutted me with his claws by now. He's a vampire, and by the manic glint in his eyes, I'm guessing he's a pureblood. I duck at another swipe for my head, and I lower down to a crouch to sweep his legs from under him. He lands on his hands and rebounds to somersault away from me.

"So you're the pretty little slayer the Dancho told us about." I stare at him as he brushes the dust from his pink pants. He talks. Clearly and conversationally. And even with that odd twang to his speech, there's no doubt in my head that he's _not_ a pureblood after all.

"Geneiryodan," I hiss, withdrawing a stake from my pocket. This Dancho he mentioned must be Kuroro Lucifer. The vampire grins at me, and I have to admit that the thin but long smile is creepy. The four people I live with are behind me, and I can feel Gon and Killua trying to drag Mito and Leorio away. I need to stall, before the madman decides to make a pounce for them. He's giving them a wicked smile, and I practically growl at him. I don't care if he eats all the people in Yorkshin, as long as he doesn't touch the people I live with if just to piss me off.

Bloody bastard continues to keep that expression on anyway, and I hear Gon 'meep!' behind me. They're nearly at the backdoor of the church, and I'm doing a one-man flank for them, but I hope they get inside soon. I suppose I should tell Leorio to quit the carbohydrates, if Killua can't pull him in that easily.

The intruder's moved, nearly a blur of fuzzy pink as he pounces on the kids. He's fast, and I move to keep up with him. I dash past him to block and intercept his charge, my hand shooting out to end it with just one well-placed stab with my stake. He's disappeared, and I hit nothing but air. My hair ruffles as I duck and his leg passes above me in a powerful roundhouse kick from behind that would have decapitated me.

The door to the church shuts, and I smile thinly as I jump back and land on a crouch facing him. The guy licks his lips and makes his way to me slowly.

He giggles, and I growl.

"Kurapika, was it?"

"Who are you?"

"Hisoka, the world's greatest magician." I can practically see the hearts and musical notes accompanying his deranged introduction. I raise my eyebrows, and he laughs. And then he's gone again.

There's a whisper of wind past my temple, and I jerk back just in time to avoid Hisoka's claws gorging my eye out. A cut forms beside my eye, and a cut forms on his pink top courtesy of my stake. Explosive clashes, long lulls – I hate this kind of fight. We circle each other, and the blood from my wound trails down my cheeks to my lips. I lick it away, and this shiver runs up my spine at the metallic taste.

He giggles again, and then goes in for another attack. This one lasts longer – he hits me with solid punches that I swear I'll be feeling for days, and I give him more cuts from my stake. We exchange more of this alternately, like a perverse sort of dance. Vaguely, I wonder how I'd fare against Kuroro.

An opening, and I'm on it even before my brain's processed what I've observed. I run him through with my stake.

Or what I thought had been the so-called magician. My hand goes through air, and the next thing I know my body's doing the same thing and I'm skidding across the ground on my side while my ribs scream at me. It's sort of instinctive; I roll over and let the momentum carry me to a crouching position, the stake poised in front of me and my other hand clutched at my side.

… Ow. I think my rib's fractured. Nothing too big, just enough to cause me a hell lot of pain. He laughs at my expression of disbelief, and I idly lick my blood off the corner of my mouth.

Hisoka's sauntering over to me again, and I rise to my feet despite the lance of protest up my side. There's blood in my eye, and I blink it off. Bad move, it creeps in even deeper, and my eye stings. I give up and close it, and focus on him with my good one.

He makes his attack, and I shield and dodge as much of his offenses as I can. I feel my arm nearly break as I block him when he jumps up and kicks downward at me, but I retaliate with my standard slayer weapon. Hisoka catches my wrist with my hand, slides up, and practically slips the stake from my grasp. What the--? A blur of movement I can't even follow, and I'm against the low wall with his hand pinning me up from the ground by the neck.

Well, shit.

I can't breathe. I have to breathe. Clawing at his arms isn't doing me any good. Where's the sta—right, he has it. Kick him, Kurapika, use your legs, like that, yes! No, OW he twisted it that goddamned bastard. I need to breathe, then I'm going to turn him to ashes, but after I breathe first. His claws hurt my neck too. It's itchy, is that blood tickling my neck?

Blood. My vampire side is urging me to _drink_. If he doesn't let me go right _now_ I swear I will, and then we'll see how he likes me spitting hell on his face. But my human side is larger and therefore just this _much_ more significant, and humans _need air._

I can't see him too well. Everything's either red or grey, and I think my eye stings. Can't really feel anything but this burning in my lungs, and I struggle even more. I wish he'll shut up and stop talking and laughing since I can't understand him anyway—_Air!_ He's dropped me! I can breathe!

I choke on air as I suck in oxygen, and I instinctively scramble away from the madman. Breathe, and then I'll kill him.

Then I freeze. Someone else is here.

It's a female, talking to Hisoka and admonishing him for going after me when the Dancho explicitly said no. Another Geneiryodan? I glare balefully up at them, but my vision's still speckled from my two-minute lack of air, so I don't really manage to hold out too long. Sad.

I have my stake out again, but they can't see it. I think I'll surprise them when they go near me. For now, I'll be happy with massaging my neck and breathing. And listening to them, that should be useful.

"—as much as I would like to see him dead, I agree with Dancho. Go back now. Half the night has passed, and you look like you haven't eaten yet." I feel my eyebrow twitch at the implication that Kuroro has plans for me. That's never good.

"Ah, Machi, I still want to finish my fun. Can't I drink from Kurapika inste—"

"_Hisoka._"

"Hmmm. All right, as you wish, I'll leave the pretty little slayer alone. His blood tastes good, though. You should try it out."

My blood? When did he…? I look down at my hand, the one I was massaging my neck with. Right, he poked holes in my neck. Can he tell I'm… not entirely normal by the taste of the blood?

"I'd rather not." The Machi girl sniffs in disdain, and I feel insulted. Not that I want them to have me for dinner, but the way she said it implied that I'm not even worth considering.

"Ah, but you'll find something interesting out. I should go and tell Dancho now."

This is bad. He knows. I jump up from my crouch and attack him, but he's fast and he leaps out of my reach just as the girl grabs me by the wrist in a grip akin to a pitbull's bite. Her claws dig through the skin, and I feel more blood trickle out. I change my course and try to stab _her_ with the stake, but Hisoka beats me to it and grabs my other arm.

"Don't test your luck, _slayer_," she hisses at me, practically spitting the word slayer out as if it completely disgusts her. I attempt to kick her along the waist, but she blocks it with her free hand and twists it the same way Hisoka did earlier. Same leg. My brain probably died when Hisoka tried to separate me from my lungs for me to commit the same mistake twice in less than five minutes.

"_Machi_," he whines. She glares at him then reaches for my bloody wrist. I struggle, I really do, but she easily dips her finger to my blood and licks it. Her eyes widen a notch, and I feel my stomach sink. I can't let them go, but I can't even free myself. Pathetic, Kurapika.

"Let's go, Hisoka. Dancho will want to know about this."

They throw me down to the ground, and are gone when I turn around to snarl at them some. But no, that doesn't stop me, and I immediately start running after them. They said they were going to eat or tell their Leader. I can't let them do either; the first for obvious reasons, and the second because Kuroro would know just what being a fellow half-vampire would mean.

_This is Wing's fault_, I tell myself, and feel petulantly embarrassed for the thought. It's a nice change from scatter-brained panic. But in a way, it _is_ his fault. He was the one who triggered my Born half-vampire blood, he was the one who converted Kuroro Lucifer's father into a Bitten half-vampire, and he was the one who let the late Lucifer make fellow Bitten as he pleased. What I wouldn't do to kill him.

But I digress. My main problem now is that the two members of the Ryodan who has information on my breeding are gone, and probably on their merry way to tell the rest of their members. My left knee hurts from all the manhandling they did to it, and I'm sore and bleeding all over, but I can't really afford to stop and make sure I'm not falling apart. Ridiculous thought.

I can't find them. They can't have gone to commercial Yorkshin, can they? But then, they can blend in with minimal effort. I should go back to see how Leorio and the others are doing, but I have to stop the two half-vampires from blabbing my secret to Kuroro. I'm in a difficult situation.

The road ahead of me is empty of bloodsuckers, and I veer off to another street, this one in the direction heading for commercial Yorkshin. No one will be out here in this area this late at night, unlike commercial Yorkshin. I should have figured that out earlier.

Someone screams. Déjà vu. I skid to a halt and listen as another one, a female this time, screeches for help. It's not the help-there's-a-criminal-here scream. It's the I'm-going-to-die one, and I quickly make my way to them. There's a distinct difference between the two, something I learned to be able to tell early in my career as a slayer.

The woman's stopped screaming, but the man's still generating noise enough for me to pinpoint the direction where the sound is coming from. I turn at the corner and see three people under a streetlamp. One's a woman prone on the ground, and the two men look like they're locked in a passionate kiss. They would have looked it, anyway, if the man wasn't twitching as the vampire sucked the life out of him.

It's not Hisoka. It's just another pureblood looking for sustenance, and this time I am sure of it – pasty features and a nearly rabid way of eating. I watch on impassively as the vampire finishes and drops the man on top of the woman, and then make my appearance. He snarls.

"You have just been caught violating the Trinity's Code against Dark Kin interacting with humans, and therefore shall be executed," I tell him. I normally feel silly for it, but this time, I'm too agitated about losing the pair from the Geneiryodan to feel even remotely alarmed that the vampire is charging at me.

I sidestep him, and kick him at the back of the spine, sending him sprawling face first on the concrete. He's like most of the other purebloods – impulsive and probably a Nobody before he got converted. I catch him with a stake to his heart as he launches himself at me again, and he twitches as he explodes into dust.

There's hardly any wind, and the ashes scatter messily around me. Some even sticks to the parts of my skin and clothes that has blood on it, but I ignore the bits and pieces of body to check if any of the victims are still alive. Thankfully, they aren't. I don't think I can handle any new purebloods rearing up on me at the moment. Or rather, they probably won't be able to handle me.

If Mito knew that I actually kill surviving victims, she'd probably cry her eyes out. I can't help it, really. They'll survive, sure, but then they'll turn into vampires after a couple of days. It's like rabies, only instead of killing a person, it changes him to a vampire too. And there's no vaccination, only death.

In a way, that's the reason why half-breeds are also cursed. The Bitten are stuck as they are for until they get killed, but they're too smart to die. The Born get used to being whole, but then the vampire blood surfaces, and then life becomes hell. If they want to be whole again, they'll have to turn to a pureblood.

It's kind of fortunate, in a way, that half-breeds are rare. I wouldn't wish it even on my worst enemy. Or second worst enemy, anyway. Wing has already gone through it all.

The woman's glassy eyes are staring at me. I pat it close, and rise to my feet.

There's nothing I can do anymore. The pair from the Geneiryodan is gone, and at the rate I'm limping, it may take me a long while to even see any of them again. Funny, when did the pain catch up to me?

I have to check if Leorio and Mito are fine, as well as have someone see my injuries. It's nothing that won't heal in a few days, but Leorio insists I'm more human than anything else and should never take injuries lightly. It's unnecessary concern, but Leorio means well, and he knows what he's talking about as an Apostle. My limp _is_ a bit too pronounced as I sidestep the small pile of ashes and the corpses.

Vampires make a mess wherever they go. Purebloods don't have much when it comes to eating and dying habits. I don't know about half-breeds, though, because I haven't actually killed one yet. I can't very well kill myself just to try, and I never thought to ask. I have a feeling that I won't like the answer, though. The wind carries the ashes, and I get bits on my face.

My mind is a blank as I walk back to the church. Someone new is dead by my hands. It won't bode well for my dreams.

Another skeleton to land on, another meter to add to the distance of my fall.

* * *

4:15 PM 6/25/2005 

Comments and Criticisms are more than welcome. XD


	4. Chapter 4: Puzzle Pieces

**Blood of Confusion **

By Yukitsu

Disclaimers: HxH and its characters are not mine; they rightfully belong to their creator, Yoshihiro Togashi, and I am in no way making any profit from this. Etcetera.

KuraPC went poof. T.T

A lot of thanks to Lynlyn for proofreading this for me. I don't think I could have managed it properly, at that time. o.O Go read Wild Hearts can't be Broken (if you haven't yet, though I think the chance of that happening is very slim. Lol.)

**

* * *

Chapter Four **

_Puzzle Pieces.

* * *

_

I make my way home with no problem. Yorkshin is a big enough city that meeting two vampires in one night in the same area rarely happens, though this is with the Geneiryodan set aside, of course. Cities usually don't get that many vampires in a week in the first place, unless you're in Fenderling City, in which case nearly half of the citizens are actually vampires.

Despite my supposed extra defenses courtesy of my vampire blood, my body had been particularly sore. Hisoka must have been a very powerful individual before he got turned. Fortunately, my body has already started with its natural rapid healing. All bruises will be gone by morning, and by the time I start the hunt again in the evening, my knee will be in tiptop shape too.

It's one of the quirks of being a halfbreed, I suppose.

The healing hasn't made all that much difference yet so I'm a bit slower in walking than usual. It's not long before I get back to HQ, though, where as expected, Leorio and Mito give me hell.

"Where have you been?" Leorio demands of me as soon as I step in his office, his mouth half-full of bandages. I raise my eyebrow. He finishes tying the rest of it around his head, throws the remainder away, and resumes interrogating me.

"You don't want to know," I tell him.

Meanwhile, Mito steers me to a chair and starts looking me over. I wave her away, but she glares at me and I reluctantly gesture where my injuries are. The kids are flocking around me too, though how they do it with just two of them (plus another two, if I consider the very noisy adults) amazes me.

"Will you answer me already?"

"Hisoka found out about my vampire blood."

He pales, and I give him the I-told-you-so look. Idly, I notice the bruise on the side of Mito's face. It doesn't really do her features justice.

"I ran after him and that Ryodan girl he was with, but I lost them. There was another vamp, a normal one, that fed on two people." I wrinkle my nose slightly, but Mito catches the move and pinches my nose fondly. I suppose she's happy I'm not hurt, but I'm not sure if she's aware that not many things can hurt me badly in the first place.

Leorio, on the other hand, looks like he is having epilepsy. He shoots up from his seat and paces around with impressive speed.

"He's going to tell the rest of them," I finally say quietly, and I turn to look outside the window. It's still dark. If I want to, I can probably still go out on another round, look for them and all that.

"Does he know you're a Born half and not a Bitten one?" I can feel his eyes on me, and I shrug.

"I don't know." It will be too big a disadvantage for me if they find out I'm a Born. It means I can be converted again, into a pureblood, and getting converted for the second time will most likely kill me if only because of the pain it will cause. If I do survive… let's just say Wing won't be the only severe itch the Guild will have to deal with. It doesn't take much to convert – just the pass of a bite, and I'll be infected.

Leorio's heading for the telephone, and I watch him cross the length of his office to reach it. His hand hovers over it, and then he paces around again, before he finally snatches the thing up.

I stand up despite Gon's protests and make my way out. The last thing I hear from my Apostle is a request for assistance from the Guild, and something that probably explains my situation.

They'll have to send someone this time. Or two. Or three. Send in the whole lot, really, Yorkshin will need all the slayers it can get. I don't like the thought of strangers prying in my business, and even if I don't like my job as much, it's still _mine_ and the Ryodan had been given to me.

It's not a decision for me to make. Leorio still handles that, and as of the moment, he's too disturbed _not_ to ask the Guild. He has his priorities, I have mine. Ours don't match too well.

Just as I reach my room, Leorio comes huffing up to me again, waving a thick folder in the air. For a moment, I think that he is going to swat me, but the thought is so ridiculous I inwardly call myself stupid.

"The Guild sent me the profiles of the Geneiryodan members," he wheezes, and I accept the folder. Not that I have a choice –- he practically thrusts it at my face.

"It's a bit late, isn't it?" He glares at me, and I give him a questioning look. It was a valid complaint –- I've already met three of them, after all. We decide to drop the subject, anyway, before he really does try to swat me, and I reluctantly let him in my room.

"I'm going to clean up," I tell him as he seats himself on my bed. The place is too small for a chair.

"Go on, then. I'll read the important bits to you."

"Gee, thanks. Why the sudden kindness? You're going to have me deported, aren't you?" Friendly bickering, that's the only thing left to us when we don't want to talk about other things and silence is unthinkable. The man can be an ass, but he's still the only person who wanted to take me in and be my Apostle after what happened.

"Yeah, yeah. As soon as Gon and Killua are old enough."

That won't be too long now. I can't wait. There's a moment of silence as I make my way to the bathroom and strip off my clothing after locking the door. I can hear him rifle through the contents of the folder over the water as I wash my face. Ash. It's kind of disturbing that I'm not disgusted by it anymore.

"The first Lucifer converted was, as you know, his son. News of a madman heading to the city had gotten around and Kuroro had decided to meet with his 'ill' father. That had been a mistake."

"Obviously," I mutter. He clears his throat and I grunt for him to continue.

"Like most aristocrats, he's been well trained in fencing, horseback riding, and archery. He was also trained in Aikido, and other forms of martial arts specializing in self-defense."

"So he wasn't a useless mortal after all."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" he teases me.

"Hn." I close the tap and turn to the shower stall. The water's cold when I turn it on, and I wonder if it will warm down if I wait long enough. "Anything else important? What about Hisoka? And no surnames." He knows I don't like surnames -– it gives the vampires I hunt too much humanity, and I want to avoid thinking of them as such when I'm face to face with them –- but he's an Apostle, pro-detail and all that, so he forgets.

"Kuroro was also the one who started the group. He's supposed to be a charming man, and if he convinced twelve vampires, I don't doubt it at all."

I don't either, for two reasons: One, I've met him, and two, he has Hisoka under him, of all psycho vamps.

"Hisoka, on the other hand…. He basically didn't exist before this."

"Excuse me?" I say loudly through the patter of water. I can hear him fine, but I doubt if he can hear me unless I yell at him.

"According to the file, he used to be a freelance assassin before he got converted. He was hired by the Apostle in Meteor City. He's supposed to be infamous in the underground circles for being bloodthirsty and strong, though the Guild hasn't found out what he can do exactly."

"He _is_ strong," I mutter as I examine my bare knee. It's still a bit swollen, but I can hardly feel the pain anymore.

"Speaking of the Apostle in Meteor City…. Her name is Pakunoda, and she was one of the last ones to get turned."

Now that's new. I'm fighting against an Apostle.

"You knew her?"

"Sort of. We've met. Tall woman, very… unique, and classy. She was included in the top ten Apostles in the list a couple of years ago, and rumors has it that she would have been a slayer if she didn't make such a good Apostle."

I was hoping that she'd be weak, or at least not that strong. Leorio certainly isn't the fighter type – he's a doctor-turned-priest, for goodness' sake, and he's one of the best Apostles there is, too.

"What about Machi?" I turn off the water before inspecting myself for more ashes. None. Great.

"Machi. Hm."

"Better yet, why don't you give me the profiles according to who got converted first?"

"All right," he mutters as he flips through the pages again, shuffles around the papers some more – to reorganize them, I think – and clears his throat. "The first was Kuroro." More shuffling.

"I know that already," I tell him anyway, just to annoy him. He snaps something that sounds like 'shaddap' at me, and continues.

"Next was a girl by the name of Shizuku. She was an employee of the bookstore a few blocks from where Kuroro was converted. There's nothing interesting in her profile, apart from the fact that she was an orphan and has had several run-ins with vampires in the past. It says here that her parents had been killed by one."

I've dried myself by the time he's done with 'Shizuku', and slipping into a pair of cotton pants when he starts on the third victim. I almost fall over at his introduction of the third Ryodan member.

"Shalnark was the local slayer of Meteor City."

"A _slayer?_" I echo in disbelief. First an Apostle, then a _slayer_? Most slayers are as strong as I am, even without the vampire blood – they had training, something that I never had. The Guild must have thought my blood made up for my lack of training. I suppose it does.

That's besides the point. One of the Ryodan's a former slayer, and as a Bitten half, Shalnark should be twice his normal strength by now.

"He was an orphan too, much like Gon and Killua now. He applied for slayer training when he was twelve and took up residency in Meteor City when he was fourteen. Hmm. You both started as slayers at the same age."

I don't say anything and continue slipping on clothing.

"The next ones are named Feitan and… I think this is Sphinx, but it says Phinx, so I'll go with that. It must be a codename of some sort, since they were both assassins before they got turned. They had a guild underground, though, unlike Hisoka."

And Leorio's just talking about it like it's no big deal. He must have gotten some very good news from the phone call he made.

"Pakunoda, when Shalnark got converted, asked for back up from the guild. She got impatient, though, because Lucifer had been on a rampage, feeding on citizens left and right. She hired them from their agency. Records has it that they're two of the best in their... err… field of expertise.

"Hisoka was next. He might have heard about it on the rumor mill, and decided to challenge the new guy in town."

I make my way out the bathroom and deposit most of my laundry on the hamper without interrupting him. The trench coat, I shake a bit and hang up behind my door.

Leorio ignores me and scans through the rest of the documents for a moment. I take a swig from the water bottle I keep on my table, and then I set the alarm.

"By this time, the Guild's 'back up' gets to Meteor. Name's Coltopi, he's a short guy with very long hair. Normal slayer, average strength, seems to be keen on the arts. Machi was being converted around the same time – he tried to save her, failed, and got converted also. Machi is the girl you said was with Hisoka?"

I nod at him and take a seat on the other edge of my bed. I think I don't want to know about the other new converts, if the rest of them are going to be like the first batch. Two slayers, an Apostle, and three assassins so far, as well as a bookstore employee. Half of them are potentially capable of terminating me and half the population with enough effort.

It's become a habit for me to arm myself when I'm nervous, and before I can help it, I'm already making my way to my drawers. My weapons need cleaning, that's it. I take out my swords and start on the chore. Leorio doesn't seem to notice, but there's this pause while I settle myself back on the bed.

"She practiced witchcraft, but it is unknown if she was ever proficient with it. She also worked at a tailoring shop in Meteor, and was said to have made the best clothing in the place. Machi hates slayers. That's the most definite thing on the records."

"I wonder why," I mutter uninterestedly. Leorio explains it anyway after much hmm-ing.

"She was originally from Fenderling City. It says here that a vampire fed on her brother, and instead of trying to save her brother's life, the local stabbed a stake through his head instead. This happened in front of her."

"Can't blame the slayer. Fenderling has too many vampires as it is. I would have done the same thing." It's true, no matter how sad the situation seems, it happens on a daily basis around the continent.

"You wouldn't kill an infected in front of his family, would you?"

"I might."

I see him shake his head from the corner of my eye; I shrug it off before going back to my sword.

"Anyway, there was a guy there who witnessed the whole thing. Bonorenolf was a local embalmer and had apparently been out to buy paint for his clients. He seems like a normal enough guy; a bit eccentric, but seeing as he's had his job for over twenty years, I can't really blame him for being anti-social."

"An embalmer," I repeat flatly, though I'm slightly relieved inside that there's at least another member of the Ryodan who had been a normal human being. I'm still having my suspicions on the late Lucifer, however.

"Yep. The Guild got pissed off by then, because that was two slayers Lucifer had converted. They sent in Franklin. Basically, Franklin is this huge man who was a candidate to fill in the vacant position of Malign in the Triad."

_The position that was vacated because you killed the Malign off._ I can practically hear him say it.

"He didn't make it to the Triad, though, because the Trinity thought he was too much of a brute to fit the category of their ideal slayer."

If Franklin was strong enough to fill in the position of Malign, I don't think sending anything other than their whole army of available slayers _will_ be able to take care of the Ryodan. A slayer can only be a member of the Triad if he is one of the top three best slayers. And the Trinity's view of the 'best' is the 'most powerful'. Those three heading the Guild have simple bases for their decisions, no matter how my Apostle tells me otherwise.

"The last two before Pakunoda were bounty hunters. The Guild sent a notice, and about a dozen flocked to Meteor City. Lucifer killed most of them, and converted two. They're Nobunaga and Ubogin, who were traveling bounty hunters the majority of their lives. Ubogin is a big brute of a man, who is often mistaken for a werewolf, and Nobunaga uses the sword, like you do. Eh… Pakunoda was the last one." He trails off and I calmly go about cleaning my workplace.

"So we have an Apostle, three slayers – one who was supposed to be Malign – three assassins, two bounty hunters, a witch, a bookstore employee, an embalmer, and an aristocrat."

"Yep."

"I don't think Lucifer had been as insane as the records say," I tell him quietly, and I see him blink. I can practically _hear_ him blink. "How long did Lucifer take to convert these people?"

"More or less ten days."

"How many did he feed on during these ten days?"

He finally understands me, and slowly rolls a number off his tongue. "Twenty two. All of them, even the bounty hunters, are nothing like what the Ryodan had been."

"That's thirty five people, Leorio. And he just _coincidentally_ converted the nine most powerful people that had been on the list? I don't think so."

"You think he was specifically hunting for people who would make the most powerful vampires?"

I nod once. It makes sense, now. I'm sure the spell that Wing had broken must have had side effects, but I don't think that Lucifer had been that far gone to not realize he needed powerful successors before the Guild – or Wing himself – disposed of him. I don't think he expected his own son to lead the group to dispatch of him either, though. I tell Leorio as much, and he gets this thoughtful expression on his face as he mulls on it.

"What would be Lucifer's reason for hoarding in the strong ones? Why not convert them all?"

"He might have wanted to lead a small group on his own," I say, taking a wild guess, "For world domination, or something of the sort. Wing nearly did it."

"He might have wanted to overthrow the Guild," Leorio adds. "This is insane. I'm going to call the Guild up and to tell them that mere imports aren't going to help you any."

He gets to his feet, pats me on the head awkwardly, and shuffles out the room. I barely notice it. Why was the Ryodan formed? What did Lucifer have planned? How much of his insanity had touched this plan of his, in the first place? Too many questions.

It's suspicious. _Why are the Ryodan here?_ It seems to me that the whole mess is darker now, with the knowledge that I – we – are dealing with Bitten halves who were already exceptional from the start. No wonder I couldn't beat the two who I've fought against.

Things are clicking to place in my head, but the more important pieces of information are missing. I can't make out the whole of it. It's like the puzzles I vaguely remember playing with as a child.

I slide under the cover of my blanket, and it is sunrise by the time I finally fall asleep.

* * *

10:21 PM 7/21/2005 


	5. Chapter 5: Encounter

**Blood of Confusion **

**By Yukitsu**

_Disclaimers: _HxH and its characters are not mine; they rightfully belong to their creator, Yoshihiro Togashi, and I am in no way making any profit from this. Yadda yadda.

KuraPC is still dead.

Again, thank you to Lynlyn for proofreading this for me, as well as putting up with the constant wailing and procrastinating I did for this. She was also the one who gave me that extra nudge I needed to slip past the block I had for one part of this. It's the funny part. You'll see. XD She _also _made a pretty BoC!Kurapika drawing, and an avatar to match it. I'm using it in my spiffy new BoC-themed livejournal layout. XD Username's yukitsu. Lynlyn is teh hearts.

* * *

**Chapter Five **

_Encounter.

* * *

_

I wake up with a jolt from the same dream I always have, disoriented and unsure of where I am. It takes me several seconds to figure out that my alarm clock is ringing shrilly besides me, and another half a minute before I reach out to shut it up.

The ceiling sort of fuzzes through my vision as if it's laughing at me. I blink, and it's the same dirty grey that it's always been.

It's just turning dark. I'd say it's pretty outside, but I can't really see much of the sky from my non-existent window. Apart from ventilation, the only other hole in my room's for the door. Come to think of it, I haven't seen the setting sun for a while, which is probably the only form the sun has that I've ever liked, human or Born.

The usual ritual. Fifty nine seconds. I slide off my bed and shuffle across my room to the bathroom to wash my face. My reflection stares back at me with blinky eyes, and I rub it to chase the image away. The cut under my eye is gone, apart from a faint, white line that will probably completely disappear by tomorrow. The puncture wounds along my neck and wrist have also healed, although they still look a bit red, and my knee's back to normal.

Walking around collecting the things I'll need for the night's almost become automatic. I don't know why I'm doing this. I should probably completely keep out of the Geneiryodan's way, and it's not as if I can do anything to them when I'm alone in the first place. The reinforcements will arrive soon; I would do well to wait.

Even with my logic vehemently protesting, I don my hunting clothes, arm myself to the teeth, and make my way out of the room – which, of course, can't do anything about keeping me back.

Leorio greets me as I enter the small dining room to join them at the table. They are just about to start having dinner; I observe with some satisfaction that we are having beef tonight. Mito feeds me well and more – she insists that I should eat a lot every dinner, since that's the only meal I have all day, and I don't have the heart to tell her I can survive at least three days without food.

I take my place between Leorio and Gon, and try not to grin too widely at the kid's infectious cheer. He doesn't look like he just got attacked by probably one of the most dangerous vampires in existence just last night. I don't know if that's a point for him when he becomes a slayer in the future, but it certainly is relieving that he's suffered no apparent trauma from the experience.

Mito hands me a huge slab of beef that makes the back of my neck hurt just looking at it, but I eat with much gusto. In front of me, Killua's already sliced his portion expertly into little pieces for easy biting. _His_ career as a slayer will have an obvious outcome.

My Apostle enthusiastically announces later on that the back-up he promised to me will arrive around midnight. I raise an eyebrow.

"Only one?"

"Only one," he confirms, looking pleased anyway.

"What part of _Bitten half-bred Wing descendants_ did the Guild not understand? Who did you talk to, Benign?" I scowl, wondering if the weird woman had anything to do with it.

"Yeah, actually. Mistress Bisuke told me that she'll send the one person who can help you over as soon as possible." Taken aback, I can only guess who they're sending. Perhaps it'll be the new Malign. I'm guessing that the Maledict is still abroad, and the Malefic is busy with Fenderling City.

His grin widens like he has a really nice surprise for me, and triumphantly announces: "The Malefic!"

"The Malefic?" I echo, a little stunned. The most powerful slayer the Guild has to offer is coming over as back up? According to Leorio, the Malefic's strong enough to pass for a particularly powerful Bitten half vampire. If that is true, he'll be the perfect person to take the Geneiryodan on without the danger of the group landing another blow to the organization like their predecessors had done. No wonder Leorio's so cheerful about it.

"Yep. He'll be taking over, though, but it's just for this assignment," he says apologetically while sheepishly smiling at me, and I cut him off before he can give me the specifics.

"No."

"No?" he repeats in confusion.

"No," I repeat firmly, "This is my post to defend and look out for, my assignment to complete. Malefic or no, he's not taking over the operations of this city," I tell him quietly, rising from my seat and shooting him a glare almost capable of withering plants. "He is welcome to assist me, but I am not giving over my part as the local slayer of Yorkshin."

The table has gone quiet. Leorio has the authority to order me to back out of the assignment, but it is still my decision if I am to comply or not. I was never known for agreeing with him often, and he's aware of that.

I'm at the door before either of the adults can stop me. I can feel two pairs of young eyes staring at my back as I leave, and I wonder how bad an influence I am to them. Come to think of it, I'm barely five years older than they are.

* * *

_It was an idiotic thing to do_, I berate myself as I stalk along the streets of suburban Yorkshin. The Malefic possesses the title for a reason, and that fact makes him the best candidate to solve this mess Yorkshin is in. My logic doesn't agree with my pride often either, like I don't with Leorio. The Malefic can help all he wants, but this is my city, and to term it crudely: I call the shots. 

Selfish of me, yes, but I owe the late Malign this much. He loved this city, and died by my hands for it. For _me._

_I owe him this much._

This section of the city is usually clean of vampires, being close to the slayer's headquarters, so I do a quick round and head off farther into the city. I've gone over three residential areas, all clear of unusual stuff going on, when I turn a corner and nearly walk into Kuroro and two other vampires about to feed on teenagers in the middle of the street.

I stop just in time to duck back behind the fence of a house and hope that they don't notice me.

They don't seem to – no one even so much as pauses, apparently intent on feeding. There is no wasted blood there, or at least from what I can see. I recognize Kuroro easily, but his two companions are strangers to me. They have to be members of the Ryodan, to be with Kuroro in the first place, but which ones?

One of the men has this… miniature coconut tree made out of his hair on top of his head. He looks out of place, the punk dangling from his claws aside, because he appears to be wearing rags with various foreign embroidery designs at the edges and has a pair of swords strapped to his waist. Since when did vampires need weapons? His face is all angles; high cheekbones, a pointy chin decorated lightly with a goatee, a huge hooked nose, and sharp fangs.

Kuroro's other companion is a giant of a vampire, who I don't really think is a vampire at all. Werewolves are rare – one for every hundred vampires – and I've never seen one. If he isn't sucking at the blood of the teenager in front of him instead of chewing at his flesh, I really will have thought of him as a werewolf. To add to the impression, he's even wearing a fur vest and an expression of complete savagery. I think I only reach a little past his waist. Too damn _big_, it's almost surreal. He must be Ubogin. That would make the swordsman Nobunaga.

The steak in my stomach does a sort of tumble, but I ignore it.

The teenagers are done twitching and pumping out blood for the vampires to drink. Four teenagers, three vampires. The last teenager's white as sheet, and has the expression of having been fed on. I wonder if there had been other kids with the victims, and if they had escaped. Surely they would have looked for help, and Leorio would have called to inform me by now. Idly, I realize that he's probably just my age, if only a little older.

It's futile musing. A huge hand clasps itself around the back my neck even as it dawns upon me that the fourth vampire – the one who fed first, the reason why there are four victims – is possibly around the premise, thus putting my life in danger. I am lifted up like a cat by its scruff and roughly thrown at the three sated vampires waiting expectantly in the middle of the road.

I have taken out my stakes by the time I land in front of Kuroro and his Ryodan.

Another huge man, this one with skin a ghastly shade of grey and horrific scars cut all over his face, is the fourth member. He looks like the parody of some human experiment gone wrong, and if he weren't all hunched up like he's trying to fit into normal sized doors, he'd probably be bigger than the werewolf behind me.

Even with the determined defensive stance I'm holding up, I know I am at a disadvantage, surrounded by four Bitten half-breeds without a clear path to escape available. If one of them attacks, there will be no room for me to spare the other three my attention.

"I didn't realize our audience would be the slayer himself," Kuroro says casually from my right. I almost jump in surprise at the break in the silence (and that he knew someone was there – I'm sure I didn't give any indication of my presence), but I school my features into cold annoyance. It's better to look like I'm not too bothered by my situation, just in case they get lazy and leave me alone. I _really_ should have waited for the Malefic to get here.

"Tell me, slayer, why didn't you step up to halt us from killing these people?" he continues, gesturing almost languidly at the pale corpses at our feet.

"You had already bitten them when I got here," I snap, wondering why he's asking me trivial questions.

"They would have lived, had you interfered."

"They were already infected," I shrug imperceptibly, and glare at him from the corner of my eyes. The man with the coconut tree on his head – _Nobunaga,_ I remind my self – keeps on flexing his claws around. It's setting off warning signals in my head.

Kuroro chuckles at my statement and walks to stand a little more to my front. I can't say I don't appreciate the gesture – this leaves me with an option for a quick escape, if I can manage to surprise them enough to not go after me immediately. I'm pretty certain I'm faster than they are.

"It's an interesting term to use, when you're infected as well." I glare at him furiously, but deep down, I'm a little apprehensive on what he's going to do now that he knows, and if he knows I'm a Born and not a Bitten. A small voice at the back of my mind reminds me that at least if they know, they would be less inclined to kill me anytime soon.

"Tell me, Kurapika," he begins, and I'm startled at his use of my name, "Why are you, as a vampire, siding with the Guild?"

"It's none of your business," I tell him bitingly, tightening my hold on my weapons as I see the flash of metal to my left. Nobunaga has withdrawn his sword out halfway from its sheath, positioned as if he's about to charge at me.

"He'll be useless to us," Ubogin growls behind me, "Let me kill him, Dancho." I turn my back on Kuroro and scar face – _Franklin?_ – to keep my eye on him and the swordsman. This pair is more dangerous to me than Kuroro and their fourth companion, if only because of the difference in hostility levels. I can't really afford to ignore anyone, but there's no way that I can watch all four without growing another couple of eyes at the back of my head.

Kuroro apparently ignores him, and continues to talk to me like we're currently doing nothing more than enjoying tea.

"Why do you kill your own kind, Kurapika?"

I snort, and glare at the werewolf-esque vampire when he bares his fangs at me before answering. "I'm a vampire slayer, it's what I do. If there's a vampire, I slay it."

"I'm sure there is more to it than that. Why are you terminating your own kind, serving under the Guild, when you are clearly not given compensation?" he says, completely ignoring my sarcasm.

Why does it matter to him, the nosy little bastard?

"Vampires murder people. I am here merely to give them justice," I finally reply, wondering how I can maneuver myself into keeping all four of them in my line of sight.

He doesn't seem to believe me, because I hear a chuckle that eerily sounds like the one the Late Malign used to do when I did something stupid. "It's a vicious cycle, is it not? Humans have to kill vampires to preserve their lives, and vampires have to feed on humans to survive. You are a half, caught in between the two forces, siding with those who seek to eradicate the other side, instead of those who are only doing what is necessary for their survival."

"Which side are you playing on?" I can't help but ask, inwardly shuddering at the almost poetic way he summarizes my predicament.

"It doesn't matter," he answers smoothly, and I can almost see him shrugging. "You clearly don't care for humans, with the way you let us feed on these, yet you serve the Guild. Why?"

I shrug, and mutter: "Atonement for my sin," vaguely wondering what he's going to say to that now that I've opened my big mouth.

"Oh? And what sin would that be?"

Existing, I am tempted to remark cryptically, but that's pushing it a bit too much. The dead won't be brought back to life even if I keep on mentioning them, and I am not the type to regret.

"I caused the Guild a great loss. This is the consequence of my actions."

"Great. Well, since you're a slayer now, why don't you just commit suicide since you're a vamp too, anyway?" Nobunaga cuts in impatiently. I bristle.

"I wouldn't be able to do any atoning if I'm dead now, would I?" I snap before I can help it, "Dumbass."

He growls murderously and takes a step towards me, fully unsheathing his sword. I stand my ground and turn to face him – catching sight of Kuroro's amused face -- cursing myself for being stupid enough to provoke the immature bastard and half-wishing I can just join the vampires I've sent to hell instead. The other half is wishing Nobunaga to hurry up and attack already, so I can release my stress on him. Hah. Right.

None of the wishes come true. The ground doesn't swallow me up, and Nobunaga isn't going any faster. He stamps on the ground, positions himself as if he's going to charge me, and I shift to position myself to catch any of his possible attacks. We both tense to--

Nobunaga shrieks and jumps back. I blink. We all automatically look down at his flailing leg.

One of the teenagers that they just fed on has wrapped his arms around Nobunaga's bare leg and buried its teeth on the flesh just above his ankles, gnawing happily at the chew toy. We're all staring; I can feel it. I bet they've never seen this happen before.

The swordsman finally gets his wits back and kicks at the convulsing thing – it lets go of the flesh it's bitten and starts wailing and screaming something horrible, alternately choking and gurgling between the two like its insides have gone on fire and it can't decide which of the two actions will help him more. It is probably true. We should all know that.

The boy's skin roils, withers, and turns to gray before our eyes. Its screams become high pitched, and it convulses, its new, bloody claws still latched on to Nobunaga's leg. I swallow thickly and inwardly thank my luck that _I_ wasn't the one it bit.

Bitten is as far as Bitten goes. Born can be converted again. If it had targeted me, we'd both be there on the ground right now, convulsing and screaming together. I shudder.

It rears up, howls, and turns to latch on to Kuroro.

They're still staring at it with matching expressions of surprise – I don't think they expected one of the punks to live through that – but I do the smart thing. I strategically retreat. Run, in terms of the macho, but I did mean it when I said I am atoning for my mistakes. I can do better later as long as I am alive.

Of course, it's not as easy as that. Ubogin roars when he realizes that I'm _this_ close to getting past him and swings his _huge_ arm to block me. I duck, jump up, and somersault to let it pass harmlessly under me. I catch sight of the rest of them on the way down.

A foaming Nobunaga's _decapitated_ the supposed-to-be-vampire, with its arms still latched around Kuroro's leg. That's about the only thing I see, before I'm once again trying to dodge mallet-like fists heading my way.

My mistake. I forgot that there are four of them, not three. I'm just about to drive my stake into an opening on Ubogin's side when another pair of hands catches me at the waist and wrist mid-air. Just. Like. That.

Kuroro's taken my weapons from me before I can retaliate and attempt to free myself. No amount of struggling can let me throw off this man, and with a sinking feeling, I realize that he isn't even giving it much effort. I think it's more of the size than anything, but if he really _is_ Franklin….

"I should just kill you, runt," Ubogin sneers at me, grinning at me with all his fanged glory as he bends down to mock me.

"You already are. You should cut down on the punk druggies," I bite out without thinking, "It makes your breath stink."

He roars, this time with laughter, and bends lower so he's face to face with me. Kuroro looks a little exasperated and amused behind him. As for me, I've had enough. I am not a toy to be played around with, nor am I a mouse for cats to prey on. How would they feel if I shackled them to a wall and pissed all over their feet?

It'll take me a lot of effort, but it'll be worth it. I need to try and resume my 'strategic retreat' anyway. With a restrained grunt, I flex and my nails lengthen into bloody claws; I drive one hand into the fist holding me up and the other across Ubogin's face.

My claws aren't as long as the other vampires' and they don't come out as easily as they would on normal purebloods. The tips of my fingers are bleeding, dripping with my blood and theirs, but I ignore the pain forcing the claws out causes as soon as Franklin drops me in surprise. One of his fingers falls to the ground and turns to ash. In front of me, Ubogin roars again, taking a step back and clutching his mangled face. He jostles into Nobunaga, making it easier for me to pass through them. I jump forward, staying clear out of Franklin's reach – he isn't too fast, thankfully.

There is only Kuroro to go through. To my surprise, he steps aside and lets me pass; I shake the shock off, ignore his smile, and push through to freedom. I can allow myself to be confused later on, maybe after I'm back in the sanctuary of the church.

My hands bleed onto the ground as I rapidly zigzag through the residential streets, taking the nearest route to get to the forest. No one follows me back, even with the trail, and I wonder if Kuroro has anything to do with it.

With the way the bastard's been acting all night, I won't be surprised.

* * *

10:09 PM 9/5/2005 

Edit: 9/7/2005


	6. Chapter 6: Malefic

**Blood of Confusion**

by Yukitsu

Disclaimers: HxH and its characters are not mine; they rightfully belong to their creator, Yoshihiro Togashi, and I am in no way making any profit from this. Yadda yadda.

KuraPC is ALIVE!

Notes: The usual thanks to Lynlyn for helping me out with this. Took me a while to write, since I've been generally braindead. The usual stuff. If I had a muse, I'd name it Lynlyn, or something. Lol.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_Malefic_.

_

* * *

_

I only stop running when I reach the grounds of the church, to vault over the low brick wall. And then I'm running again, ignoring the feel of the wards tickling me; it's only powerful enough to stop common pureblooded vampires, and I'm far from that. The wards in the church itself are another matter entirely, and I stop before the large door to quell any murderous urges I have. Not that I have much of it left, seeing as I had put strategic retreat on the top of my list of priorities.

I catch my breath and try glaring the wards down. They mist around the pews like this pink haze of anti-vampire matter. Pretty much only vampires and particularly powerful humans can see them, as well as some other supernatural creatures. The pink mist isn't the ward exactly, but a residue of it – I'm not really sure, since I only know they've been there since forever, but Leorio told me it's alive in a way, and picks on anything remotely vampire. "Be human, Kurapika. The wards will try to throw you out," he said. "Stupid claws."

It's possible to pass the wards, even if I don't bother, but its effort to keep me out will aggravate my already hurting hands. A lot. It's a little unfair how, either way, it's forcing me to choose between two pains. Can't it ignore the slight morph my hands made? It's not like I'm in any position to use them against anyone.

There are two choices: pull all ten claws back swiftly, or do it slowly one by one. The first will be the sharp sort of pain and will fade quickly enough, while the latter will be nothing short of excruciating.

Obvious choice. I stare at the ten claws, still bleeding, and my hands twitch involuntarily. Right. I close my eyes shut, brace myself, and _pull_. The just-healing skin tears itself free of my claws sharply as I retract them, and I feel my bones and muscles in my hand realigning and adjusting to absorb the extra bone into them, leaving enough to keep my normal nails just as they were. The shock my hands go through hits me like a hammer between the eyes, although hammers aren't really that sharp….

I swear the pink mist is laughing at me.

I do the logical thing and curse at it.

My hands are throbbing. My fingers twitch, making a sharper sort of throb dance around for a moment. Right, remember not to move them. It's been three years since I had them out, and the first and last time I did, it was to make a hole the size of my fist on my predecessor – I think my ignorance can be excused.

"Kurapika? What happened? I heard someone cry out."

"Leorio," I grind out, blearily looking up at him from underneath my bangs and cradling my hands against my chest, "Your tact needs work."

He ignores that and rushes to me, attempting to pull my hand to examine it. I growl at him and he stops tugging at my wrist. "What the hell happened? Your hand's bleeding all over the steps."

"Thanks for stating the obvious," I mutter. I don't move.

"Are you all right?" he asks, some slight trace of worry in his voice. I feel the love. I'd say no, I'm not, and ask if he needs eyeglasses, but I think I know what he means.

"Yes, I am. Just give me a minute."

"Why did you use your claws? Did you come up against the Ryodan?"

"Yes," I tell him again, closing my eyes as I feel the pain start fading away. Slowly, granted, but still easing up on trying to convince me to cut my hands off. "Four of them. Kuroro, the bounty hunters, and Franklin."

He squawks at the mention of Franklin, pales, and bustles about me in alarm. I don't think he quite believes I'm still alive, or at the very least unharmed. "I'm fine, Leorio. My hands just hurt." Understatement of the year.

"They should," he snaps. Funny, how he shows his worry. "You won't be able to use them properly until tomorrow night." I am of the opinion that he's overreacting, and that my hands should be at least usable in an hour or so. But I don't tell him that.

He helps me up, and then shuffles off to prepare the medi-kit. I follow at a more sedate pace, inwardly sighing in relief when the pink mist parts for me.

"Kurapika!" Mito cries out as I enter the residential quarters of the church. She ushers me to sit in front of the dining table, insists that I take my trench coat off and, as with Leorio before, scans me for injuries.

"Not all the blood's mine," I tell her wearily, firmly keeping my hands hidden under the table, disguising it with my tendency to remain prim and proper. She ignores me like the stubborn woman that she is and only stops when she has satisfied herself that I'm mostly physically all right. Maybe she's not that ignorant of my healing capacity, after all.

Mito decides I need to be fed, and I wonder how I am to eat if my hands can't be used. Leorio saves me from her concern when he comes back with the kit. I put my hands on the table, and try not to look at them as Leorio does his work, cleaning them from the dried blood and thoroughly dousing them with antiseptic. The bastard. That hurt.

"You're not going out tonight anymore. Not with these."

I don't say anything but he knows that I agree with him, and that's not because of my injuries. He bandages my hands skillfully, and pats me on a shoulder.

"The Malefic should be around any minute, anyway." Is it midnight already? "You can go to your room if you want, I'll call you when he gets here. I've been tasked to update him, but you can fill in the slayer bits," he wrinkles his nose like it's such a sin to not be able to update the Malefic on everything.

"Have you ever met the Malefic before?" I ask him as I shake my hand around experimentally, and he shakes his head.

"There hasn't been the need for me to. I've been here in Yorkshin with you since I started being an Apostle."

Really? I'm his first charge – no wonder he's a little different from the other Apostles I've ever met, not to mention younger. Vaguely, I list down what I know of Leorio and his background. He has a degree in medicine, which is rare among Apostles – Apostles usually have doctor allies in cities to take care of their respective slayers. Leorio's one of the youngest Apostles there is, and I believe he graduated from the Guild's extensive training faster than most other trainees. The Guild must have helped with the priest part, but his other achievements are impressive for his age.

Still, it's difficult for me to help myself. "No wonder you're weird. You're green."

"Hey!" he squawks, swatting me and missing entirely when I dodge. Mito comes back with a steaming bowl full of what seems like breaded pork on top of rice. I thank her and take it even as I vaguely wonder how she managed to whip that up so fast.

"Call me up when only when you have to," I tell him over my shoulder as I head out the other kitchen door with the bowl balanced between my hands and my trench coat slung over a shoulder. Leorio squawks again while Mito bids me goodnight.

My room is supposed to be the old cellar somewhere under the kitchen. It's small for a cellar, though, and it still slightly smells like sweet wine and musty cheese. It may be because I have a finer sense of smell than most people, but it doesn't matter. My room doesn't smell like home – they had to move me here after turning into a Born, because my old room upstairs, the one Gon and Killua use, lets in too much sunlight. Boarding it up would have been unsightly, and I guess vampires should live up to the stereotype of living in dark, enclosed spaces.

I set the food down and eat it with a little difficulty. Pinpricks of pain shoot up my hands once in a while, but for the most part, it's tolerable. The pork is sweet, which is a shame since I was craving for something salty, but I eat finish it off anyway – even the onions, because I know Mito would admonish me like she would Killua when he leaves the red peppers alone.

Against my better judgment, I carefully wash my face and brush my teeth before lying down and participating in a staring match with the ceiling above my bed. With my trench coat and shoes stripped off, I'm down to my trousers and tank top, and that's comfortable enough for me to sleep on. The Malefic is coming, anyway. My last thought before I fall asleep is that if I squint hard enough, I can see that the patterns on the stone actually resemble Kuroro Lucifer.

* * *

I wake up to the obsidian eyes of an extremely large cat staring down at me less than a foot away from my face.

Less than two seconds later, I had been thrown clear across the room by my wrist when I had instinctively lashed out. I hit the wall with my other hand to break my landing, and ignore the needle-like pain that lances up my arm in favor of seeing what the hell the intruder is.

In retrospect, it was silly of me to think my attacker was any sort of feline. It's more accurate to call him a mannequin. The man – though the long hair is deceiving, for a moment – stands beside my bed like nothing in the world is happening at all. He doesn't look ruffled even as I feel my hair stand on end, and he doesn't even so much as blink.

"Good evening, Kurapika," he says smoothly, walking – _gliding_ towards me with his hand extended for a handshake. I stare up at him.

"Malefic," I flatly say, relaxing my pose and shaking his hand firmly just for the sake of being polite. The soreness returns to attack my hands like vultures on someone's fresh kill. "What are you doing in my room?"

"You'll have to forgive me. I wanted to see you right away."

I woke up because I felt uneasy. I hadn't heard his breathing at all; neither did I hear his entry. My door is the kind that creaks horribly whenever it's moved, and I've always been a light sleeper. Even so, I had woken up with his face right on top of mine, and it looks like he's been around for a couple of minutes. I didn't even _smell_ him.

"And you didn't ask Leorio to call me because?" I walk back to my bed, giving him as wide a berth as I can afford in my room without looking like I'm avoiding him – which isn't much. He doesn't answer, and I don't pursue the topic. I put my shoes on faster than I expect and slip the coat around me. He follows me up the stairs to the kitchen, where Leorio is nervously retraining himself from wringing his hands.

"Malefic," Leorio starts, but he gets cut off.

"You may call me Illumi. It is my name."

Right.

"Illumi, then," my Apostle begins again. He sounds all professional and cool, but I've known him enough to tell that he's edgy about the whole thing. Serves him right for calling the Malefic over. "You can have your discussion with Kurapika in my office. Follow me."

Leorio takes up the lead; Illumi follows loosely after him, while I take up the rear. It's not a long walk – lasts all of a minute and a half. Leorio's office is barely furnished and neat; his priestly props set aside in a corner, a desk, his table, and two chairs in front of it. We all take a seat while he puts the thick bible and what I'm guessing is his half-made homily aside to make way for his elbows. My hands calm down, and I breathe more easily.

"I've briefed the Malefic – Illumi – on the Geneiryodan, and what they've been doing in Yorkshin since they arrived a little more than two weeks ago."

Wait. We only got the report that they're here two days ago. This would be only the third night, and Leorio's saying that they've been here for a _fortnight? _How can a group of thirteen vampires keep that low a profile for more than ten days? I retrace my memories to other night when Leorio gave me the assignment, plus the vague specifics of it. That was after I already met Kuroro.

Kuroro Lucifer. He already knew who I was the first time we met. He's even more information-updated than the damn Guild.

"—the Malefic about the Born and the Bitten."

"What?" I ask, snapping my focus back on Leorio. Illumi is giving me this blank look that makes me feel ridiculously vulnerable.

Leorio glares at me. I glare back. "Tell the Malefic about the Born and the Bitten."

"What do you want to know?" I ask Illumi. He blinks like a cat but doesn't do anything else.

"Everything, please. I would appreciate it if you could begin from the start," he says in this tone that I almost mistake for sweet. The Malefic is big on obligatory politeness, isn't he?

"Shouldn't you already kno—All right," I nod at Leorio's glare. "There are three kinds of vampires: The Purebloods, the Born, and the Bitten. The purebloods are your common, everyday, insane vamps. They are easily dealt with." I paused. Not exactly _easily_, but compared to the trouble I've faced the past two nights, I guess they _do_ seem easy now.

"The Bitten," I continue, "Is a variety of the stronger kind. They have the abilities of the purebloods, but they retain the awareness and intellect that they had as humans. This allows them to maximize their new strengths. However, the Bitten are also burdened with the physical limitations of the purebloods – for example, they need to drink, stakes can kill them, and the sun burns them. Only a Vampire Lord can convert people into Bitten, and a Bitten converts to fellow Bitten."

He blinks again. Odd. It seems that the Malefic blinks only once every three or so minutes. Is he really human? He doesn't display qualities telling me that he is, apart from the fact that he relatively looks like one. But then, vampires look human too.

"The Bitten are converted, but the Born are actually hybrids. The Born vampires start out as humans with a vampire parent," I plod on anyway, eager to finish the first part of the explanation, "Usually, these humans remain humans all their lives. However, once a vampire bites them, certain vampire traits emerge and they then become Born vampires. Born vampires aren't as powerful as the purebloods, but they retain their awareness as well as some slight immunity to the sun. They also don't turn into dust when stabbed with stakes, and they do not need to feed. The Bitten are more vampire than human, while the Born are the other way around." I swallow thickly and lick my lips. I sound like a teacher.

"However," I go on, "Because the Born are still essentially human, they can be converted again. When members of the Born are bitten, they are then converted to Vampire Lords."

"If that is the case," Illumi interrupts me, "Then how come there is only one Vampire Lord in existence?" Because he's killed everyone else that has the remote potential of killing him? I suppose I'm one of the extremely few people acquainted with Wing, let alone on a first name basis, and I've never been one to share what I know with the Guild.

My eyebrows furrow, and I swallow again. I haven't talked this much in a long time. Leorio usually does the talking for me, but I guess Illumi wants to have some slayer-to-slayer bonding moment. It's not like I'll give him free rein of Yorkshin even if he does.

"Because conversion doesn't just involve the body, it also converts the soul. Not many people can survive their soul plunging into hell twice, nor can they survive the metamorphosis their body undergoes. Borns are already extremely rare because the first conversion is already lethal." Not to mention that vampires and humans do not breed often, and if they do, the baby is usually left to die. There's even a lesser chance of that same baby growing up and then getting himself mauled by a vampire. Most humans spend their life without meeting vampires – they're myths for a reason. "If a Born does survive, he will be damaged, and the second conversion will completely break him. I'm not exactly sure, but I believe the conversion process is the easiest for the pureblood-converted."

"Consequently," I lean back on my seat and gaze at him evenly, "I am the only Born vampire of this generation."

"Yes, and the only Vampire Lord in two centuries converted you."

"It was an accident," I say blandly, knowing that it's the truth. I wasn't someone special; Wing just wanted to spite my Master by feeding on me.

"What do you think of the Geneiryodan?" He copies me and leans back in his seat. He looks surreal.

"They're powerful, and if I am to beat them, I'll have to fight them one by one. Even then, that's still with a fifty percent chance of winning. However, the members of the Geneiryodan are always in groups of two or more. I have reason to believe that their leader, Kuroro Lucifer, was alone that time when I first met him because he wanted to be confronted."

Illumi tilts his head, manages to look creepily innocent, and asks me to continue.

"I believe that my Apostle has already given you their files." I don't feel like sharing now either. "What do you think?"

"If they remain in groups of two," he says, putting his finger to his lips as if mimicking a thoughtful expression. It doesn't really work – his eyes are too wide and unblinking. "There is a high chance of me defeating them."

I stare at him for a long minute.

"This is my city," I say coldly, with as much clarity as I can muster without raising the volume of my voice. "You are not allowed to take any steps against the Geneiryodan without consulting me--" I glare at Leorio from the corner of my eye, "—nor are you allowed to actively pursue them without my consent."

"As the Malefic, it is not my duty to obey your orders." The corners of his lips quirk. "In fact, if you are unaware of the Guild's rules, I am supposed to be your acting superior."

"Yorkshin is—" I start hotly, ignoring Leorio when he reaches forward to grasp my arm. He needn't have to. The Malefic cuts me off again.

"However, I am willing to step down and let you retain your rights as the local slayer of Yorkshin during the duration of this assignment, as long as you are able to perform your duties properly." He's staring at me, and it's making me feel cold. I shiver while Leorio is too busy being relieved. "If you are to die or prove incapable of pushing through with the assignment, I will take over and there will be no complaints."

"Agreed," I mutter tightly, barely managing to choke it out. I shrug Leorio's hand off me and I get to my feet. "I'm going out on patrol," I say bitingly, stalking stiffly to the door.

* * *

That bastard. It's not an unreasonable condition to place on me, if I think about it, but then again, he knows that I have trouble keeping up with the Ryodan. It's a challenge, I remind myself as I stalk down the path to the city, and I shouldn't do anything rash. I'm not losing.

"Like running out of there isn't rash," I mutter to myself as I examine my mummified hands. There's a low chance of me running into any member of the Ryodan, especially if I stay within the vicinity, but it was stupid of me to leave the sanctuary nevertheless. I flex them a little. My hands don't hurt that much anymore; they're just sore and all tingly, but I can fight if I need to. All hail to vampire healing abilities.

There's a howl, long and feral, and it's coming from the thick expanse of forest from my left. Speaking of. It sounds like a stray wolf, except we don't have wolves in Yorkshin. Werewolf? No, it's not the full moon yet. It must be Ubogin.

Another howl allows me to estimate his distance. Possibly a kilometer, maybe more. But this one is nearer than the first – has he locked on to me already? If he has, I won't even have two minutes before he's on to me. Not enough time to run to the church, to the Malefic.

"Not that I'd ask for his help." I'm still on the path, but nearer to the city than the church, anyway. If I run either way, I'll just be exposing my back for an attack or exposing the citizens to danger. And I know the Geneiryodan members don't convert anyone.

I only have enough time to shed my coat and grasp a stake in each hand before Ubogin's large form bursts from the forest and bears down on me.

* * *

5:05 PM 10/26/2005 


End file.
